


tapestry of the fates

by kalypsobean



Category: Clash of the Titans (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ixas will never be great, but being close to greatness is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tapestry of the fates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



Ixas knows he'll never be someone like Perseus. Not now, anyway, that he's seen what it takes to become someone like that, someone who makes choices instead of following orders - someone who can turn down the gods and not fear to walk the earth.  
He grew up dreaming of greatness; it's why he learned to fight, and why he still trains longer than he has to. Somehow, though, since leaving, the dream has turned on itself and it's enough just to be close to greatness; it's an honour just to be the shoulder that Perseus stands on to be more visible than everyone else. He's seen men die whom he's known all his life, and he goes on, not for himself or their memory, but because there's no question of turning back if Perseus is still going forward. He needs to be where Perseus is; it's become instinct while he was distracted, focused on surviving.

He wonders, sometimes, late at night, if perhaps this is what the gods intended for him; if he grew into his wide shoulders and long legs so he could march at Perseus' back, if he was ambitious only enough to be chosen to quest for the witches and never had a chance at leading. The nights are long, when he thinks about that, and the darkness is a little harder to see past. There are moments when he doesn't think at all - when Perseus claps him on the shoulder and asks how he's doing on the terrain, like he knows that it's the furthest Ixas has ever been. He nods, and Perseus moves on, back to the front where he looks most natural. He does struggle; his shoulders and thighs are stretched to the point of soreness, and he sometimes feels like he'd rather never stand again than walk further, but there's no point telling Perseus that - it would make no difference, and he would be left behind.  
He's not at the point where he would follow Perseus everywhere, though he can think of few places less inviting than the path to the Underworld; he's sick of sand and trees and sleeping in the open. The world seems tinged with yellow, almost like even Apollo is drawn here, to see how this quest will end, and the heat bears down on him relentlessly; even in his dreams he cannot turn back. They are the traitors, the images he sees when he seeks rest and fails, for they leave him exhausted and aching before the day has begun.

There are times he thinks Perseus was born to be leading him, even his whole city. It's easy to follow him; Ixas does it without thinking, takes his place at the rear, where he can draw on anyone who dares track them with evil intent. He hunts and brings food to the fire when they settle for the night, mostly rabbits, but once he brings down a bird, one with colours he's never seen and meat that turns golden white over the fire. He wanted to see if he could; he didn't do it for Perseus' smile, or to see him eat the last of it when the others had lain down to rest, but that night he slept.  
There are other times, though, when it feels like something more personal than duty or loyalty; when his dreams haunt his distracted waking hours, as they draw closer to the Styx and the growing sense of doom lurking in the thoughts he doesn't want to explore, and he watches Perseus rather than the surrounds. It would be easy to become devoted; Perseus is strong, honest and true. It would be a simple thing to swear a new fealty, and accept Perseus as his king. He knows that path exists: in a future somewhere, Perseus inherits Argos and shares Andromeda's chamber, and Ixas stands at the door. He wants that, sometimes; the world would be bright and the unrest in his heart would have been quieted. But the sky over the river is grey, and with the darkness comes cold and that future is lost forever, due to the lure of temptation and decadence that leads to sin. The Underworld draws him in; the air whispers of pleasures too great to ignore, and promises them to him if only he would stay. It speaks of forbidden touches, not unlooked for or punishable, but destructive kisses that pave the way to heartache; he dreams of seeing Perseus' dirt-stained hands on his own pale skin, but he knows that they are not meant for that.  
He was prepared for death to seduce him; he had been warned, and there always was the chance he would be the one not to return. He has nothing to leave behind; his family are the men he trained with, and they will not miss him. He doesn't hesitate to walk into the smoke and heat and past the ghostly touches of souls long abandoned to damnation and emptiness. Perseus has earned that trust; this is where he is supposed to be, even if that future of long years and sunlight is only now a distant chance, and their threads are spun away from those who would have shared their lives. Though he still has doubts, he cannot say he would have chosen differently if he knew this would be where it would lead; he would be shamed if he did not have his arrows ready to defend Perseus now, in this desperate and mad stand.

There is coolness in the air and her laugh is deep; he knows better than to show fear, and he has an arrow drawn. He can't see Perseus, but he is strong for Eusebios, as he knows Perseus would have commanded. Every moment of pain for the creature means a better chance at victory, even if there is no way home; he has faith enough to know Perseus will find them a path.  
Solon is the first to die, and he knows he'll be next when his hands become steady on his bow. It feels natural, when he sees Medusa's eyes, as if this is what he was meant for. He wishes for more time, to say one last thing, so Perseus would know: he could not stand to be the one following Perseus into oblivion, so he goes ahead to make sure the way is safe.


End file.
